Minutus
by Supergirlprime
Summary: While searching the Men of Letters base, Dean finds a weird little statue. he shouldn't have picked it up. Now he's tiny, for three days. what's a hunter to do when he can't do anything? annoy his brother of course. T for language.
1. Chapter 1

It's Not my fault Sam!

Men of letters bunker, pre-trials.

The Men Of Letters Bunker was really cool. Really, totally awesome. After spending most of his life on the road with seedy motels that most rats would turn their noses at, this was a real place to call home. And what a home it was! The Bat-cave had everything! Dean was pretty sure of that. Giant kitchen, endless halls, and enough books on the things that go bump in the night to keep even his nerd brother happy. Sam was happy here, and so was Dean.

Dean, who was catching up on shifter lore (apparently those bitches could live up to half a century!) decided he had enough and once he finished the book, he went back to the storage room where he found it. Thankfully, it was found in one of the closer storage rooms, among other shape-shifter items and lore. Putting the book back, Dean read a label off a jar of goo that proclaimed said goo to be shed shifter skin. Eww. Moving away from the jar of ick, Dean's eyes fell upon a small wooden box. He couldn't say what made him look at it, maybe because I was so plain. Everything in the bat-cave was so fancy, but this little wooden box looked like a pencil case made out of varnished plywood. Just at his eye level, Dean couldn't look away from this plain piece. Surprisingly, this thing had its own classification code, and was separate from other items.

He picked it up, it was pretty light. He rubbed his thumb over the dusty top to read the letters inscribed on the top. But then his stomach growled and reminded him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast and that was very wrong. Putting his stomach first, Dean pocketed the small box and headed to the kitchen. After making himself a very fine specimen of a sandwich with a liberal amount of potato chips and a cold soda on the side, he took his lunch to the main room. Only to remember that he and his brother left the table covered in old tomes and ancient books. Stifling a groan, he piled some books up and made space for himself to eat his lunch. He took a bite of his sandwich and sat down, feeling something long in his pocket. Oh yeah, the box. Taking another bite the older Winchester pulled it from his pocket. The ride in and out of his pocket took most of the dust off the box. He used the cuff of his sleeve to clean the last of the dust off the top. It looked like someone carved it in with a knife. MINUTUS. That's all it said. Turning it over there were no other words on it. There were two small hinges on one side but no lock. The Elder Winchester easily worked his fingernail under the other side. I popped open in two seconds. Whatever Dean was expecting to find, this wasn't it. Red satin lined the inside of the box and pulling away a layer of red silk showed the box's occupant to be a small silver statue about five inches long. It looked to be old as balls. There were faint etchings on the small obelisk that reminded Dean of ancient Roman and Greek art.

His curiosity got the better of him. The hunter picked up the small obelisk and turned it over in his fingers. Why would something like this be with the shifter stuff? Was it something kinky? That thought made Dean cringe and he moved to put it back in its box when the thing started to glow. First it was pretty dim but within mere seconds it was uncomfortably bright, Dean shut his eyes as the small statue was grew heaver in his hand. Dean dropped with a yelp and covered his eyes with his hands. In seconds, Dean couldn't see the bright light under his eyelids anymore and slowly drew his hands away from his face.

He immediately wished he hadn't. His legs now dangled from a gigantic height. He scrambled to stand up and gain his bearing. In front of him was a cliff, the bottom looked hard. He turned around to see a brown plain. He didn't recognize any of this! But then he looked up.

And saw the ceiling, and the table.

"Oh no." he groaned. Realizing what had happened.

"Shit. I've been shrunk." A loud THUNK from above made him jump. One of the books must have fallen off the pile, he realized. And then another noise started. A heavy, continues thumping.

In walked Brothersaurus. Dean's eyes widened trying to take in all of his baby brother. He was HUGE!

"Dean?" His mountainous brother called.

"I heard you yell, what's going on?" he looked for his currently absent brother.

"SAMMY!" Dean yelled, running to the middle of the seat and waving his arms.

"This so better not be a prank." Sam crossed his arms, unamused, looking around. Dean stopped his flailing and yelling. Sam couldn't hear him, he was too small!

Sam's eyes stopped at the table and a half-grin worked up the side of his mouth.

"You know the rule about leaving food, Dean." He said in a lower voice. Shit. His sandwich. They agreed that if food was left out in the open with no one claiming it before leaving, then it was up for grabs.

"Last warning Dean." His brother called before grabbing the chair Dean was still currently residing in. uh oh. He was gonna die under his brother's ginormous butt! Not the way he wanted to go. He sprinted for the back of the chair as his brother sat his large backside down in the chair. Dean was just fast enough that the butt touched down milliseconds before he reached the back of the chair. Lucky for him the chairs were wide enough that even his brother's mall-sized ass couldn't fill all of it. He had (to him) a good dozen feet between his brother's backside and the end of the chair, which had space between the back of the chair and the seat itself. He quickly prayed his brother wouldn't fart. He wasn't sure if he could survive that. He heard jumbo munching away at HIS sandwich! What he needed now was to get Sam's attention so they could fix whatever happened.

Dean took inventory. What did he have? He checked his pockets. One pocket knife, a few pieces of gum, spare change, two rubber bands, a pack of cheap matches, his cell phone, and a mini flask of holy water. He immediately went for the phone and pushed the speed dial for his brother's cell. Which never rang. Apparently when your phone is smaller than a fingernail, it can't pick up a signal. Dean cursed and put it and the other items back in his pocket. How could he get Sam's attention? Should he go for the leg? Walking around his brother's backside he encountered a long, big, jean clad leg. It was at tall as a house to Dean. If he climbed on top of a leg and stabbed his brother with the knife, he'd notice that! Just then Sam moved his gargantuan hand without looking down and idly scratched the leg opposite Dean. Dean swallowed thickly.

Nope. He did not want to die under his brothers fingers either. He had matches, should he set his shirt on fire? Another BAD idea. Which left only one other option. He craned his neck back to see his brother's shoulder. He let out a sigh and moved to his brother's backside. Luckily today Sam was warning a baggy flannel over shirt, which was easy enough for his miniaturized brother to find hand and footholds in.

As he climbed, Dean let out grumble after grumble.

"Why'dja have to get so big Sammy? Who died and made you Godzilla? King Kong's looking for a new girl, you're big enough to be his mate."

Three quarters up, Dean sat in a large fold of the shirt, catching his breath. He judged his current size was between one inch and two. He was smaller than the plaid on Shirt Mountain. He took a deep breath and grabbed a new handful of shirt. A good thing too. Because just then Sam shifted and Dean lost his foothold as his brother moved.

"Damn it Sam." He growled, pulling himself upward, closer to his brother's head.

Less than five minutes later Dean had made it to the peak of his brother's shoulder, very much out of breath. Sam was busy reading. It was usually pretty hard to distract him while he was immersed in a book. Once he caught his breath, he moved slowly over to his brother's ear, didn't want to make Sam swat him off. He stared at the giant ear and the ridiculously long hair covering it. The sight triggered a memory of a book he read over two decades ago. Once he made it to the collar of the shirt safely, he held on tightly and yelled.

"SAM!" the response was instantaneous.

"Dean?" Sam replied, confused. He sat up and looked to the left where he heard his brother's voice. His voice sounded small.

"STOP MOVING!" Dean nearly screeched, almost losing his grip on the collar from the sudden movement. Sam tensed and froze. His eyes moved around, searching for the older Winchester.

"Sam, this is very important. I found a weird little thing, and it shrunk me." Sam relaxed slightly. And his shoulders moved once in a laugh.

"Shrunk you?" Dean could hear the smile in his voice.

"Stop moving! Yes, shrunk me."

"Where are you?" Sam asked softly. Dean appreciated it. His brother's voice was very loud to his little ears.

"On your left shoulder by the collar." Was the begrudging answer. The younger hunter leaned gently to his right to get a better look.

"I said stop moving! Look, bring your hand up flat to your shoulder, I'll walk on."

"Ok." Slowly, Sam brought his right hand to his shoulder. He didn't know why he was surprised when he felt something small move onto his hand. Slowly he moved his hand in front of his face.

"Holy shit." The tiny Dean on his palm raised his hands and let them drop to his side in a gesture of "I know. Shit happens to me."

He blinked, and then lifted his other hand to poke his little-big brother.

"Hey!" the Tiny Dean almost squeaked, swatting the large digit.

"Stop that!"

"Sorry." answered an amused Sam who was not sorry at all.

"You're just so-"

"Say cute and I'll kick your ass." His mini brother threatened only realizing that there was no actual threat being it as he was under three inches tall.

"Small." Sam finished, watching his brother slump in his palm, exhausted.

"What happened?"

"I found this small box, brought it here to examine, found a statue inside, picked up the statue, and boom, tiny town." He said stretching his legs out in front of himself.

"What small box?" Sam asked looking over the table. Dean stood up and held on to the webbing between Sam's thumb and pointer as he looked down at the Table below. The books were all over. He looked back up at his younger brother's giant face.

"Some books must have fallen on it. Be extra careful Sammy. Don't touch it!"

"Trust me, I won't." he moved both his hands to the table, and then brought them back, making Dean loose his balance and fall over.

"What's the matter?" Dean questioned, folding his legs Indian style. Sam looked slightly uncomfortable and he glanced at his small brother and other places.

"If…if I'm moving stuff around, I need two hands. Where do I put you?"

Hmm. Sam did have a point. He couldn't be on the table with stuff moving around. The shoulder was too big and unstable, and no way in hell was he going in a pocket!

"Bring me over to your ear!" Dean said a few moments later.

"Why?"

"Just do it." Sam frowned slightly but did as his brother requested. He moved his hand to his left ear. Dean moved some hair out of the way before looking at his brother's ear. It was bigger than he was and that was more than a little unsettling.

"Can you hear me now?" Dean asked softly.

"Yes." Was the reply.

"good." He said before climbing the back of the ear.

"Dean, what-" Dean draped his torso over the top of the skin that attached the ear to the head. His legs over the outer shell of the ear. He propped his head on his elbows.

"Still hearin me Sammy?"

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam asked slightly confused and a little uncomfortable about the fact that his brother was behind his ear.

"Remember that book we found in a motel room when I was eleven? It was about a giant and a little orphan girl, and dreams in England." Sam blinked at the memory.

"Yeah I remem-oh." he remembered in the story how the girl traveled behind the giant's huge ear. Dean had made a little Sam scream with laughter about traveling by ear.

"So you're gonna travel by ear?" asked Sam not hiding his smile.

"Yup."

"Is it comfy?" Dean looked around at his new perch. He could see everything in front of him through Sam's long hair.

"It's warm and I'm good. Thumbs up on the hygiene little brother, it's clean."

Sam started looking for the statue. Lifting the tops of books and moving them to the floor or chair. Dean found it was easy to hold on while his brother moved. His was definitely better than the was a little hard for the small Winchester to see the table, the books looked a little blurry because they were so far away to the miniature hunter.

A lock of hair moved in front of Sam's face and the younger Winchester moved to tuck it behind his ear as usual. Dean kicked his foot hard against the outside of Sam's ear.

"Don't even think about it." He warned.

"Sorry." Said Sam, letting the hair fall back. He had momentarily forgotten where his brother was currently residing. It wasn't long after that that Sam pulled a book away to find the small obelisk and its case.

"The case isn't cursed, is it?"

"Nah, I held it for a while, nothing happened." Sam picked up the box, confused at the cheap exterior and the expensive interior.

"That's what got me curious too. Curse boxes are usually much nicer than that. And much harder to get into too."

"The Men Of Letters hideout is a pretty hard place to get into, Dean."

Dean had no reply for that. Sam carefully used two smaller books to deposit the statue in its case.

"Where did you find it?"

"In one of the nearby storage rooms, near the shifter lore."

"I guess you now know why it was by shape-shifter stuff. It definitely changed your shape."

"Ha-ha." Dean deadpanned, pulling on some looser skin over the ear for a better grip. He wasn't sure if Sam had felt it or not.

"I know where that room is." The younger Winchester proclaimed while moving the chair back and standing up.

"Whoa!" Dean scrambled for a better hold, not expecting his brother to stand up.

"You alright?" Sam quickly cupped his hand over his ear.

"Just fine. Next time give a guy some warning." Dean shifted, now sitting on the area his torso was draped over before. It was easier to hold the loose skin over the ear. Sam slowly took his had away from his ear.

"You sure you want to stay there?" Sam asked, a little amused at how his brother is so comfortable with this odd situation. Dean patted his brother's head.

"I'm fine Sammy. Onwards! Giddyup!" he drummed his shoes to his brother's ear.

"I'm not a horse." He grumbled. But still here was a smile on his face as he walked to the storage room. Dean could feel his brother's steps underneath him. It felt weird. Not bad, but weird. Nothing like driving his baby, or even a horse.

Sam walked slowly and gently, there had to a better way for his brother to travel with him than by ear. Dean would probably kill him in his sleep if he suggested his pocket. His brother directed him to where he found the box. There was dust and a clean spot where the box had been. Sam ran his finger over the little plaque proclaiming the item to be R-397. They went back to the main room and the master file cabinets. Sam found the file easily and read it out loud.

"Item R-397, Ancient Roman obelisk, five inches long. Date created-unknown. The pictures depict the goddess Vespa, keeper of the hearth and the goddess of the home. This item has the ability to shrink a person to anywhere between three quarters of an inch and one inch and a quarter depending on the size of the person. The item was used to keep men at home, hidden from being enlisted in the army. The effect is temporary, lasting anywhere from forty eight to seventy two hours, with no ill effects on the person. Item does not work on other items, or non-humans. DO NOT TOUCH!"

"That's it?" asked dean. Sam flipped through the other pages in the file.

"Yeah. The rest is just the history of the item, where it was found, and who had it before the Men Of Letters got their hands on it."

"You would think that they would put the do not touch first." Dean pointed out, even though it was in a larger print and circled in red.

Sam chuckled and put away the file as Dean's stomach let out another growl.

"What was that?"

"My stomach Sammy, that was my lunch you ate." Sam winced.

"Sorry." Dean patted the side of his brother's head in understanding.

"Rules are rules. I wasn't there, you went for it." His stomach again growled unhappily. He clutched his sad belly with an arm.

"Let's get you something from the kitchen." Sam suggested as he walked off, swallowing the laugh in his throat.

Dean bounced on his big-little brother's ear.

"Hi-Yo Silvah! AWAY!" if it was this easy to keep Dean this happy while he was small, Sam would make no comments about being a horse. Dean had to run out references sometime, right?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sam had been very wrong. Oh so wrong. It had been twenty minutes since he had found his shrunken brother and the references Were. Not. Stopping. They weren't even drying up. Dean chose to look at this experience as his brother being a giant, not as him being tiny. Everyone had coping mechanisms, Sam realized, and this was Deans. But there was no end to it! Dean had watched all nine Godzilla movies and those weird horror movies with the giant bugs. Sam was King Kong. Sam was Mothra. Sam was the Jolly Green Giant. He leaned back in his chair in the kitchen and raised his face to the ceiling. Dean was hard to hear from this distance. Good.

Huh. The ceiling tiles were reddish brown.

The mini hunter was finishing up his lunch. Two crumbs of bread, a tiny piece of chicken, a shred of lettuce and dollop of mustard. Dean had nearly stepped in the drop of mustard that Sam had made on a plate. It was the size of his boot. Dean broke off a microscopic bit of potato chip off of the tiny piece his brother had given him. He looked up at his little brother, and saw his chin and neck. He saw that he was pushing Sam's limit with the giant jokes. He realized he should stop. There was nothing stopping the younger Winchester from dumping his older brother in a cup of water. Or something worse. Dean cleared his throat to apologize when Sam leaned forward on his elbows on the table. It was unsettling how his younger brother loomed over him like a skyscraper. More so than before.

"Dean, if you promise to stop the giant jokes, I will go out and buy you a piece of pie."

Dean shut his mouth and nodded fast. His eyes grew wide at the thought. A whole piece of pie, at his size! It would be bigger than his baby! Even though he had just eaten lunch the shrunken hunter's mouth started to water. It would be one of his fantasies coming true. Well, minus several hot chicks and sex, but Dean was very okay with that.

Sam smiled, proud of himself for thinking of that. His brother was not above a bribe of food. Well, right now he wasn't above anything. Sam let out a laugh from his nose at the thought. Dean was really tiny. Fucking miniscule! It was hard to hear him! He had to remind himself not to flick his brother off the table before, because that would probably kill him. A misplaced book could kill him. Hell, a sneeze at the wrong time and Dean could go flying, never to be found again! Sam shuddered at the thought. He blinked at the table.

Dean had been waving his arms to get his brother's attention while his mind was somewhere else. When Sam's eyes re-focused in on him he waved his arm to the door.

"Come on! Let's go to the store!" he yelled. He had to yell so Sam could hear him. Unless he was near his face or by his ear, Dean had to yell to be heard. Sometimes Sam forgot to speak low, and his regular voice hurt the smaller Winchester's ears a little when he forgot. But he remembered when Dean put his hands over his ears. Sam placed his palm on the table and Dean scrambled on. The room was cold and Sam's hand was warm. Dean had never liked flying, but being on his brother felt safe. He knew Sam would never let him fall to his death. (and again, wouldn't that be a sucky way to go.)

Sam gently cupped his hand around his big brother (Christ, he was small!) As Dean leaned back on his fingers, bringing him to eye level.

"Sure, we could use some supplies."

"Groceries Sammy. This is a home. You get groceries." Sam cleared his throat.

"I really don't feel comfortable going to the store with you on my ear, Dean." He told his big-little brother in a very soft voice. Of course that took away any persuasion power that the sentence might have held.

"You could fall off in the store, hell, you might fall off in the car and I might never find you!"

Dean saw the logic in Sam's argument. Not that he was ever going to admit it though.

"So put on a hoodie. If I fall, I'll fall in the sweater hood."

Sam rolled his boulder sized eyes at his brother. The question of leaving Dean alone at the base alone wasn't even something to be considered.

"Yeah, as if I don't look menacing enough at six foot four, I'll wear a hoodie. If I'm lucky, maybe someone will call the police when I reach onto my pocket to pay!"

Dean sighed on his brother's palm.

"Point taken. So where should I go?" Sam dropped his eyes and brought them up two seconds later. Dean folded his arms.

"No." he stated firmly.

He was NOT going in Sam's pocket. Being totted around like a damn purse poodle. Sam lowered his log-sized eyebrows and his eyes narrowed into to what Dean recognized as a mischievous glint.

"No pocket, no pie."

Dean jutted his lower lip out in a pout.

"But Saaaaaam!" he whined.

The bigger Hunter tilted his head forward. Telling Dean that this was the ultimatum.

"Blue pill or red pill." He stated with a half grin, mentally high-fiving himself for the reference. Dean walked forward on Sam's palm, almost tripping on his brother's lifeline, peering over the edge of his palm at the offending pocket, and back up at his dick of a brother who was smiling because he knew that he had won.

"First check the pocket for holes." Dean stated. Sam shrugged.

"Sure." He got up from the table, bringing the hand with his brother in it to his chest carefully. Dean stumbled with a bitten off yelp and clutched a middle finger that was wider than he was.

"What the fuck man?" he yelled. He could feel his brother chuckle deep in his chest as he walked.

"I need to use the bathroom. Do you?" Sam rumbled. As tempting as the idea was to pee in Sam's pocket, he would probably be stuck with it for a while. And Sam would probably (and literally) be pissed and retaliate with something worse.

"Yes." He yelled upward as Sam made his way to the nearest bathroom. So far the brothers had found four. Sam was sure that there was more. They had yet to find a blueprint or useful map of this place even though they had been living here for over a month.

Sam entered the bathroom and moved his hand to the counter of the sink. Dean hopped off.

"How is this happening?" Sam asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"What?" Dean asked, though where from Sam was standing it sounded like more of a squeak.

"Where are you going, to go?"

"Right here." Dean cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled up at his mountain of a brother.

"At the edge of the sink?" Sam mumbled.

"Yes." Dean definitively squeaked.

"Alright, just don't fall in." Sam said moving over to the toilet. He missed the "humph." Dean let out but saw the crossing of his arms. He took care of his own business. A quick glance at the only color on the white sink counter showed him that Dean was done too. Leaning over his brother he quickly and very thoroughly washed his hands. He dried them on the nearby towel and offered one to his brother. He did not miss the scowl Dean gave it.

"I just washed it! You saw!" Sam exclaimed. Dean had muttered darkly something that Sam couldn't hear and slowly clambered on to his palm. Sam slowly moved his hand to the faucet and tuned the water back on at a small stream and grabbed the bar of wet soap that he had used before and brought it to his tiny brother.

Dean was thankful for the fact that Sam was being really considerate to his size. Everything was done slowly and carefully. It was kind of creepy when Sam had loomed over him to wash his hands, but Sam had made sure of where Dean was, he always was. It made Dean feel safe. Dean could feel his brother's body heat. It felt nice. The bathroom was cold, and pissing on a porcelain countertop didn't help. He wished he had his jacket. But even after washing his hands in cold water, Sam's hand was warm.

After cleaning up and checking the pocket, Sam made his way to the entrance of the bunker and brought Dean up to his face.

"I'm gonna put you in my pocket now. Kick me if there's an emergency."

"Ok." Dean replied, eyeing the pocket. Slowly, Sam moved his hand to his pocket, stuck his fingers in and gently tipped his palm on an incline. Dean slid down the palm and landed face-first into the soft pocket. He spat out a lint ball. What a rush! Like a slide! Maybe he could convince Sam to do it again. He pushed himself onto his feet. Sam had checked the pocket before for holes, so he wasn't going anywhere. Dean looked up to see two fingers parting the top of the pocket, part of Sam's face and one eye.

"You good?" asked the younger hunter.

"I'm good, Sammy." Dean yelled up. The material swallowed most of his reply, but Sam had understood. He moved away from the pocket and put his coat on. He softly patted his pocket. To Dean it felt like a whale gently bashing him into a barn. Twice.

"Hey!" he yelled, punching the chest behind him, and receiving hurt knuckles for his effort. Even under two shirts Sam had muscles like a rock. He could feel Sam chuckle deep in his chest behind him and lost his footing as Sam walked out the door. The smaller hunter fell to his knees and crawled to the nearest corner of the pocket seeking better stability. He fitted himself neatly in it. The pocket wasn't as bad as he thought. It was warm and comfy. He crossed his arms and legs. This was downright cozy, with Sam's body heat and the flannel the pocket was warm but not stuffy. The pocket didn't have a flap, but the jacket kept out the cold, late fall air. The pocket moved, but it wasn't totally unlike the movement of his baby. He felt Sam slide into the driver's seat of his baby. He heard the familiar rattle of keys and the purr of the engine. But before the car moved the radio was turned on and fiddled with until a local radio station was found. Dean pulled himself to his feet and kicked at his brother's chest.

"Driver picks the music and shotgun shuts his cakehole." Sam stated simply, shifting the car into drive. Dean huffed and sat back in his corner as the latest top 40 played.

"_But if you close your eyes/does it almost feel like nothing changed at all_

_And if you closed your eyes/ does it almost feel like you've been here befo-re?_

_How I'm gonna be an optimist about this/how I'm gonna be an optimist about th-is."_

Ok, so maybe this wasn't the worst song ever. He shifted deeper into the pocket and closed his eyes. He heard a gentle bu-bump behind him. Sam's heartbeat he realized a minute before he was snoring softly.

Sam drove not to the local supermarket, but a town over where there was a much larger and better stocked store. He grinned as he picked out the fixings for a salad without comment. He looked at his pocket and he could easily imagine Dean's voice in his ear.

"Rabbit food Sam. If you are what you eat then you are a twitchy-nosed, humping machine."

He almost missed it. Almost.

A large amount of canned foods went into the cart. Who knew how long a hunt would keep them away from the bunker. And these things lasted for years.

Passing by the bakery section he paused, remembering his promise. The bakery selection was large, and a large refrigerated section displayed several different slices of pie, packaged separately for sale. It wasn't like he could look into his pocket and ask for an answer.

He picked out slices of apple, blueberry, lemon cream, and chocolate mousse. Even Sam had to admit that the pies looked delicious. He would probably eat the ones that his brother didn't pick. Gently placing them in the bottom of the cart he continued on. He snagged a large bag of peanut M&M's on his way out. Dean wouldn't be able to eat it for a while, but he would appreciate it anyway. He pulled his cash out of his pocket with a smile to the cashier who was a girl in her teens who blushed gently as she caught his eye.

Three weeks ago Dean had found the Men Of Letters bankbook. With the help of the monkey suits and a few VERY official and old documents (and very real looking I.D's) they proved that they were the sole inheritors of the investments and accounts left by the mysterious MOL. (It's not like they were trying to steal money that wasn't already theirs!) Long story short, they had cash to spare. Sam liked to think of it as the inheritance they never got. As he put the bags of groceries back into the cart the cashier chirped:

"Thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart!" Sam blinked, crinkled his forehead slightly and tilted his head. The cashier girl blinked right back at him and her face grew bright red as she realized her mistake.

"Dan's Market. Thank you for shopping at Dan's Market." She lowered her red face into her company sweatshirt. Sam laughed.

"No problem." Giving her another smile as he walked out. Sam loaded the trunk and slid into the driver's seat.

"Her face was so red! Dean?" he had expected a reaction from his brother.

"Dean?" he asked again, he pulled back his jacket and used two fingers to open the pocket. There was Dean, tucked away into the corner, fast asleep. He shifted and mumbled as the cold air hit him but he didn't wake up. Sam closed the pocket and sat up. Well, now he had some free time. His eyes were attracted to the familiar green and white of a Barnes and Noble bookstore. A half grin tugged at his mouth as he got out of the car. First he headed for a computer to see if they had the book in stock, next he quickly rushed and out of the children's section to pick up said book. It was never a good idea for an adult male to be alone in the children's section of a store without a kid. Rufus once told them a story about a fellow hunter who was after a vampire who was snatching kids from a library in the winter, but he had been mistakenly jailed, after being noticed hanging around the children's section of the library more than once.

He picked out a few books that he'd been wanting and went to the dvd section. Among his purchases was the sixth season of Dr. Sexy. Dean had been moaning about how he missed most of the season in purgatory. Y'know, FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE OUT THERE. He hoped that the four disk set was enough to keep his brother happy and in one spot for a while. The cashier raised an eyebrow at the children's book but didn't comment on it.

Sam drove back to the base, radio low. Dean was still sleeping after he brought the groceries in. Sam decided to let him sleep. He realized that the shrunken hunter had climbed up his shirt to get his attention. That must have been difficult. He understood that Dean must have been scared. He almost was sat on by his brother! Sam shuddered at that thought. He looked at his pocket and realized how scared Dean must be, he thought of what it would be like if their roles were reversed. If Sam was the one that shrunk. There would be more teasing, but Dean would still take the utmost care of his little brother, making sure he was safe until the curse wore off. Sam resisted the urge to pat the pocket. Instead he started on dinner. He had learned a few things over the years in kitchens despite never having a real one to call his own. He recalled an old recipe, and a quick internet search gave him what he needed. Without thinking, he made two servings. It was already cooking when he realized his mistake.

Dean awoke to the smell of fish. He stretched his arms out and flexed his chest in a catlike arching of his back. That was a nice nap. He opened his eyes and didn't recognize his surroundings. It came back to him a moment later. Oh shit. He fell asleep in Sam's pocket! Were they still in the store? He could tell that Sam wasn't moving. Were they in the car? Why would his baby smell of fish? His dry tongue liked his lips, seeking moisture. Man, he could really use a drink. He grabbed the walls of his pocket bed and pulled himself up. Once he found his footing he gave the chest wall a mighty kick. He felt Sam startle. The shirt shifted as Sam sat up straight and looked into his pocket.

"Evening, sleepyhead." He greeted. He stuck two fingers in the middle of the pocket and curved them, waiting for Dean to get on. An unspoken agreement went that Sam would not pinch Dean between his fingers unless absolutely necessary. Dean stepped on the small platform and flung his arms around a finger as it lifted out of the pocket. He winced and buried his face in it as the bright light burned his eyes. The pocket had been dim. Sam gently deposited him in his other palm.

"You okay man?" Sam asked, seeing Dean cover his eyes. Dean's brain was still fuzzy with after-nap sleepiness, and the bright lights didn't help. The cold air cleared a little bit of the fuzziness away.

"Yeah, fine." Dean blinked his squinty eyes, looking around. Taking a few moments to recognize the kitchen.

"What's for dinner?" he asked taking a deep sniff of that really nice fish scent. Sam moved his hand to the table and Dean walked off.

"Baked salmon and roasted red potatoes."

"Good job, I'd thought you'd have me eating veggies."

"Potatoes are a vegetable Dean."

"Not where it counts!" Dean protested.

"Would you put a potato in a salad?" he asked.

"Well no-"

"Then it's not a real vegetable." Sam moved away from the table to check the fish rather than continue this silly argument. Dean sat down on the table Indian style. He was really thirsty. Not for alcohol, just for a drink of any kind. Something wet. But Sam was way over there and purposefully not looking at him. He sighed. Slumped forward, and then lay on his back on the table spread eagle. Make it easier for the crows to get him.

"Dean, what are you doing?" said Sam who was suddenly blocking out the light from above like a thundercloud. A hairy, know-it-all, smart-ass thundercloud.

"I'm thirsty." Dean said plainly. He couldn't yell very loud, his throat was too dry.

"Oh!" said a surprised Sam. The thought had never crossed his mind. It wasn't like Dean could go and get his own water now. He searched the counter for something his brother could drink out of.

He quickly washed out the smallest measuring spoon, he had used it for spices for the potatoes, filed it with water and brought it to the table.

He wondered how Dean would drink from it. The little hunter solved that problem by cupping his hands into the water and bringing his hands to his face. After slurping two more handfuls, Dean looked up at a sorry, hovering brother and thanked him.

"Next time just tell me when you're thirsty."

"I did!" He protested.

"Before you die of dehydration."

"I was sleeping!" oh. Right. Sam sat down.

"I got you the pie. Four different kinds."

Dean grinned. Dessert was gonna be awesome.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't long before dinner was ready. Sam found a plastic plate and tried his best to cut the food to fit his brother's size. Dean wasn't concerned about the fact that the food his brother gave him was half his diminished size. They ate in the kitchen. Dean sat on his plate, picking at the meal. His heart (nor his stomach) wasn't really in it, because he knew what was coming. Sam finished up, watching his brother make a sculpture in the cooked potato with the pink fish. He couldn't tell what it was, but even from his vantage point (also he knew his brother) that it was not rated pg.

"Ready for dessert?" He asked. Dean looked up and grinned from ear to ear.

"I was born for this moment Sammy." Sam gently scooped his eager brother into his palm and brought him to his ear. Dean quickly climbed on. Sam made sure he was stable before moving to the fridge.

"I wasn't sure which one you wanted." He admitted opening the door and sticking his head in to show his brother the options. He heard a faint, shuddering breath coming from his brother. He wasn't sure if it was because of the pie or the cold. It could have been both.

"Apple. I want the apple." The determined little voice told him.

"Apple it is." Sam agreed and grabbed both the apple and the chocolate pie containers.

"Two?" Dean questioned.

"You're not the only one who wants dessert." Sam replied he could feel his brother bouncing with excitement. He preheated the oven and got a baking pan for the pie.

"Pretty sure you want it warm." He said as he took it out of the container and on the cookie sheet. A little pie filling wiped off on his hand and he gave it a tentative lick.

"Not bad!" he said, bringing his hand back to his mouth to lick off the sticky cinnamon-scented filling.

"You so better wash that hand before you even think of handling me." Dean stated darkly.

Pulling a page from his brother's book, Sam replied with a snarky comeback.

"Ooh Dean, you get me all tingly when you talk like that." There was a confused pause before the miniature hunter replied.

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" the younger Winchester snorted and popped the pan into the oven. He washed his hands and brought his chocolate pie to the table.

"You're not heating yours up?" Sam shrugged, but the body language was lost on the older Winchester.

"It's chocolate mousse. It's supposed to be cold." He took a bite and nodded. It was thick but creamy. For a moment he wondered of all chocolate tasted this good to women. It would explain a lot.

"We should get pie more often." He commented, moving a spoonful of mousse in the air, testing its stability.

"That's what I've been telling you our entire lives!" sighed an exasperated dean. After another few moments of silence Dean tentatively asked a question.

"Do y'think, I could have a taste of yours?" Sam turned his head to see his brother's face, only remembering when he didn't see his brother that he was shrunk.

"I don't see why not. It's not like you can scarf down half of my dessert." Dean had done that before many times in the past. Taking a mouthful and claiming it was just a nibble. Sam brought his palm up to his ear and tilted his head. The small hunter slithered of his brother's ear on to his palm. Sam moved his hand to the table. The little man practically vaulted off his hand. Only to pause in front of the behemoth delicacy before him. Sam was surprised to say the least. He was expecting Dean to stick an arm into the thick mousse. The younger hunter leaned forward.

"Something wrong?" he saw Dean looking at his hands and arms.

"This is my only set of clothes. How can we clean them if I get them dirty with pie?"

Dean had a point. They were far too small for the washing machine. And if they were washed in the sink they might get lost or go down the drain!

"So take them off." Sam suggested. Dean looked up at his brother like he was crazy.

"Look, keep your underwear on, and ditch everything else. You can get clean after and wash your underwear." Dean thought about if for a few moments. It sounded like a good idea. And washing up did sound nice. Climbing mount Sasquatch worked up a stinky sweat. He didn't try to think of how he's wash up. Probably in a cup or something. He pulled off his clothes and deposited his shirts, (only two) pants, his watch (went into his pocket) socks and boots on to his brother's waiting fingers, where they were placed a few feet away on the table for safekeeping. Sam turned back to the pie to see Dean licking chocolate off of his hands. Sam could almost see the minute points of the anti-possession tattoo on his older brother's chest. He left the table to check on the pie in the oven, which had warmed up nicely. Using a spatula he transferred it to a plate and brought it to the table.

"Leave me alone with mine. Here's yours." He said, scooping Dean up with three fingers and moving him to the other plate. Dean glared at his brother for the unannounced trip but that didn't last long as the warm apple and cinnamon-ey scent hit his nose. When his feet hit the plate he crouched slightly. Instead of going straight at it he slowly walked around it. Marveling at the monolith apple dessert.

"Would you like me to leave you two alone?" Sam joked. Dean waved his arm behind himself by way of telling off, but he surprised Sam when Dean walked straight into the pie. He saw the small head moving around.

He turned his attention to his own plate. Not wanting to lose his appetite. It wasn't until a few minutes later when the chocolate mousse was nothing more than a chocolate smear on the plate that Sam looked back at the apple pie. He frowned, not seeing the miniature hunter.

"Dean?" he questioned, gently pulling the plate to him and looking it over. Turning it around he grinned as Dean was making pie-angels in the filling that had oozed on to the plate. Dean gave him a sleepy smile.

"You done?" he asked. Dean nodded heavily and pulled himself from the sticky filling. The nearest piece of apple had quite a chunk missing. He could see an indentation in the nearby crust too.

"You're covered in pie!" Sam exclaimed quietly.

"I know. Isn't it awesome?" Dean relied, wobbling a bit. Still drunk off joy and apple filling. Sam sighed and left the table. Dean watched as his brother grabbed one of the deep round coffee mugs and turned the sink on hot for a moment, grabbing a few things and filling the mug with water and bringing it back to.

"Is this good?" Sam asked, offering his hand. Dean climbed on slowly. His limbs and stomach heavy. He slipped a little because of the pie goo on his feet, but a tilt of Sam's hand fixed that. Slowly, Sam brought him to the mug and held his hand over the water. Letting Dean check the temperature. It was perfect. Almost hot tub hot. He easily slid off Sam's hand into the warm embrace of the water. Giving Sam a mini-heart attack for a moment until he surfaced. The hunter floated belly-up in the water, letting pie filling dissolve in the deliciously hot water and fall off. An odd scratching sound as Sam scraping off some soap from a bar with his nail and sprinkling the water with it. Dean swam to the nearest edge, hooked his arm over it and washed off the glorious pie. He asked for more soap for his underwear and Sam complied. Dean thought it was a little weird that he was taking a bath in a coffee mug, but waved it off. Sam was doing something on his phone, glancing his way every other minute.

Dean took his underwear off underwater. (only dunking his head twice) and used a sliver of soap to wash the small garment. He squeezed it out and tried to lay it on the edge of the mug, but it slipped off and fell on the table with a small plop.

A few minutes more and Dean was done. Only… he was naked. And he couldn't get out of the mug by himself. It's one thing to be held by your brother when you are shrunk, it's another thing entirely to be both tiny AND naked. He held on to the rim of the mug with both hands. The cup curved slightly and he rested his feet on the slippery ceramic. He was tired despite the nap from earlier.

He would have to come out one way or another.

"Uh, Sam?" Dean called out. His younger brother looked up.

"You done?" Dean nodded. Sam picked up his hand and then dropped it, realizing that Dean, was in fact, naked.

"Come on Sam. Just pick me up." Dean wheedled. He was more than ready to get out of the mug, not caring anymore. Sam blinked twice and moved the (clean) dish towel he brought with him from the counter over to the cup. Dean eyed the (massive) towel. The jump from the mug to the towel was about a three story building. Dean wasn't going to risk his neck for that. Dean looked up at his baby brother who was waiting for him to say something.

"Come on dude. Please?" he asked. Surprised at himself for saying that. It was the please that cinched it. Sam scooped his fingers into the water, under his tiny brother. He spread his fingers slightly to let the water fall off his fingers and into the cup. Moving his hand, Dean quickly slid on to the towel, where the little hunter dove in between the folded layers of the maroon hand towel. Sam could see movement under the top layer. Dean popped his head out.

"I don't think I've ever had a towel this big, but I don't think I can ever go back to the old way of drying myself off." He disappeared again into the towel. Sam picked up Dean's little clothes, rubbing the pants between his fingers. They felt soft. As he pinched the boots between his pointer and thumb, one of the socks fell out of the boots, and try as he might, Sam could not pick up that tiny scrap of cotton. He tried using his nail to scape it up but all that did was get it stuck, and an attempt to dig it out only pushed it in further. Either he needed a toothpick or dean was gonna have to get it out. He picked up the rest of the tiny clothing and moved it to the edge of his fingers.

"clothes." He announced. A small arm reached out of the towel and grabbed them from the bigger hand, retreating back under.

A few minutes later Dean crawls out on to the table, looking ready to sleep for a year. He flexes with a large yawn. Sam double-takes when he sees his brother's feet. Dean's only wearing one sock. He looks adorable! Dean shrugged.

"I think I lost a sock in the towel. Shake it out." Sam shakes his head instead. Bringing his finger to his brother.

"it got stuck." The finger was extended pad-up, Dean could easily see where his sock went. His eyes went up to his brother's face for a moment to confirm what he wanted him to do. With a small shrug, Dean extended his own small hand under his brother's fingernail and extracted the sock.

"eeeeww." He said holding it away from himself.

"This needs to get washed."

"How?" Sam asked. Dean shrugs again.

"The same way I did my underwear. Lift me up to the cup." Sam extends the rest of his fingers and Dean steps on, sitting down quickly and pulling his other sock off. Sam holds his brother by the edge of the cooling mug. Dean steps to the edge of his brother's enormous palm, rolls up his sleeves and dunks the socks into the soapy water, scrubbing them as best as he can with a tiny piece of soap. It wasn't cleaning well. The small hunter frowned, looking down. Sam could see when inspiration hit.

"gimme your other pointer, Sammy." A confused and amused Sam extends his left pointer to his brother. Dean deposits the socks down on them.

"now rub 'em with your thumb." Sam does as his brother says, barely feeling the tiny socks between his fingers.

Dean has him stop, dunks the socks in the water and has him rub again. The tiny hunter declares them clean and points down to the table. Sam lowers his hand and watches as his big-little brother picks up his underwear from where it fell.

Dean lays his wet items on the towel to dry. Sam knew his brother and could tell that he was covering a yawn. Dean swayed a little on his feet, his back to his small-bigger brother.

"Tired?" Sam asked, making Dean jump. He saw Dean place a hand over his heart after turning around.

"Dude, you ok?" Sam asked, worried. Dean waved and nodded a yeah.

"Zoned out for a bit. Forgot this happened." He said gesturing to himself and his much-bigger brother.

"Are you tired?" Sam tried again. Dean didn't even try to cover the yawn this time.

"I'm beat. Could sleep for a few years." It made Sam happy to hear that. Over the past few years, the most sleep Dean would get was if he was knocked out-cold. Otherwise it was four or five hours a night. A little more with the help of alcohol. But since they came to the bunker, he developed a regular sleeping pattern. Sleeping up to nine hours at a time!

That was almost unheard of even when they were kids! Dean made his way to the waiting palm. Sam brought the hand to his chest as he stood up. Dean sat down, his back against the base of Sam's fingers. Sam was a little confused at how easily Dean took to being carried around. For the most part he didn't mind Sam picking him up or hanging over his ear.

Sam wondered if that was an effect of the spell, or just his brother too stubborn to admit to being scared.

Of course Dean was scared. He was less than two inches tall! And everything keeps reminding him that he was tiny, weak, and defenseless. But, when Sam was holding him, he felt safe. So very safe. It helped that Sam was also warm. There was a chill in the air and Dean was cold most of the time. He wished his jacket had shrunken with him. He moved around on the hand, digging himself deeper between the warm skin of Sam's palm and fingers. The hallways were a blurry landscape as Sam walked them to the bedroom area. He could see doors, plaques, and paintings on the wall, but they were hard to make out. It was off-putting. He shifted again as Sam turned, not into Dean's room, but into his own!

"Hey!" Dean yelled up at Sam's chin. Sam looked down at his brother. Dean resisted the urge to yell. Sam's face was the size a blimp ready to crash into the ground. Ginormous.

"I'm sleeping in my bed!" he yelled up. Sam's chuckles shook him from his hand-perch.

"What's so funny?" he demanded, a little upset at the laughter.

"First off, you think I'm going to let you sleep in a separate room from me, second you think you can sleep on a regular bed!" at this Dean crosses his arms.

"I can!" he declares.

"Sure." Sam says, depositing Dean on a pillow on his bed.

"Gonna sleep there?" Dean is so light on the fluffy pillow, but still has some mass so he sinks a little and slips on the pillowcase as he tries to walk. He falls on his back and can't get up, slipping twice on the ancient pillowcase. It bellows up around him, almost swallowing him, and his attempts to get up only make him sink deeper and he can't get a decent grip on it before his fingers slide off.

Sam looms over him.

"Had enough?" Dean scowls at him, but lifts an arm up in a plea to be taken off. Sam complies, scooping up his sullen brother and depositing him on the night stand.

"Be back in a minute." Sam promises, exiting the room before Dean could say a word. With a frown, he sits down on the hard wood table. It was humiliating, struggling with a pillow. He looks around the vast landscape and hugs his knees to his chest feeling cold and defenseless. These were things he did not enjoy. He thought of what would happen if the roles were reversed. If Sam was the one that shrunk. There would be more teasing on Dean's part. But Dean would still do everything he could to make Sam comfortable and safe, just like what Sam was doing now to him.

But Dean was cold and tired, and more than a little grumpy from the pillow. He's contemplating moving around to get blood flowing when Sam walks back in the room holding…one of Dean's shirts? Dean moves aside as Sam bends down and gently places the grey, folded shirt on the night stand.

"It's soft enough for a mattress." He explained. And suddenly Dean's world goes white as something is dropped on him. He blinks for a moment, wondering where the parachute came from when Sam pulls it off of him, making sure he was okay.

"Sorry, it was supposed to fall on the shirt." He pinches it between two fingers and drags it to dean, who takes an armful of it with a blank look.

"It's a handkerchief! a clean one, for a blanket." Sam explained. Oh. Well, it was soft and warm.

With a little effort, he drapes what he can of it over his shoulders like a cape and smiles up at Sam.

"Thanks Sammy." He says and tries to drag the hankie over to his *bed*. But unfortunately its too much material for him to drag. Sam sees this and helps him carry it. Neither say a word about it. Sam stands up and Dean tries not to think about how his brother looks like a skyscraper.

"I'm going to the bathroom, do you gotta go?" Dean opened his mouth to decline the offer before realizing that he couldn't get there by himself. He nods and steps on the offered hand.

"Man." He thinks on the way to the bathroom. "This shrinking thing sucks. Can't do anything by myself." Thank goodness Sam was over-courteous about his needs. He looked up at his baby brother, thankful for how gentle he was.

After the bathroom, Sam once again deposited Dean on the night stand. He picked up a nearby water bottle and filled up the cap with water, placing it not far from the makeshift bed.

"thanks." Said Dean, getting comfy. He shifts the hankie around himself so that it's also a pillow. Meanwhile Sam is changing into pajamas. Dean checks his watch. Its still early, by any adult's standards.

Sam opens a drawer in the night stand and pulls out a thick paperback.

"I'm gonna read for a bit. Mind if I keep the light on?"

"Nah." Dean yells at mount Sasquatch. "g'night!" he yells again rolling over. Sam was right, his shirt WAS soft. Sam sat on his bed, propping a pillow between his back and the wall.

"Night Dean." Sam replies softly as he watches the shrunken hunter roll over and get comfortable. He turned to his book. He's been meaning to get to A Game Of Thrones since they watched the first season. He rooted for Danerys.


	4. Chapter 4

Two hours and a good third of the book read, Sam put the paperback down, thinking about the storyline. He liked book Kahl Drogo better than the one in the show. Plus they were all older in the show , it took away some adventure. He looked around his bright room. Usually while reading, he'd use the lamp on the nightstand, but with Dean sleeping there, the light would have been intense and on him. Speaking of Dean…

His eyes landed on said nightstand. Something felt wrong. He leaned over, seeing the handkerchief shift ever so slightly. No, not shifting. Shaking?

"Dean?" he questioned softly. He saw the back of Dean's small head poking out of his makeshift blanket.

"You alright?" he reached out a hand and gently nudged his smaller brother. He felt shaking. No, he was shivering! Before Dean could do anything, he was scooped up into Sam's massive fingers. What little Sam could feel of him under the small cloth was cold! He slowly woke up as Sam covered him with his other hand for warmth. Dean squirmed sluggishly as he woke up.

"Sammy?" he moaned, slowly blinking his eyes, squinting in the light.

"Dude you're freezing! Why didn't you tell me?!" Sam shifted in his bed to a better position, one that allowed him to comfortably hold his hands close to his face. Dean frowned.

"I dunno. I…dreamed that I was cold. Like Antarctica or sumthin." Dean shifted and Sam could feel his every movement.

"You're so WARM Sammy." He commented, still groggy. He rolled over onto his stomach and snuggled into his brother's palm, nuzzling the fleshy base of a finger and within moments, fell back asleep.

Dean was so going to get teased for this. And yet, Sam nearly awwed at the sight of his brother snoozing on his hand, still wrapped in his handkerchief blanket.

Now what? He couldn't put Dean back on the table, he'd get cold again. And he couldn't stay in this position all night. Sam pursed his lips in thought. He was a light sleeper. Hunting training made sure of that. And he slept on his back. Thinking it over for a moment he got up and turned off the light and tuned on his bedside lamp. Slowly and carefully he got into bed using one hand, the other cupping his sleeping brother. He pulled the blanket up a little past his waist and gently slid Dean off of his palm onto his chest. Dean moved, getting comfortable, but didn't wake up, accepting the body heat that Sam emanated. Sam cupped his hand over his brother, careful for to smother or crush him.

Things to get: a heating pad for Dean. He thought.

He felt the small man on his chest. He was surprised at how deeply his brother slept. The past few years had Dean on not much more than four hours of sleep a night! And now he changed clothes for bed, wore a robe, and slept long and deep! He let out a content sigh at how things had changed since they found the base.

Sam closed his eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of dragons and tiny people.

From under his brother's palm, Dean's eyes were half-open. Trying to understand where he was. Sam moved him…somewhere. He knew that much. He laid still and observed. Whatever he was on was moving, up and down at a slow steady rate.

Bu-bump. What..?

Bu-bump. Bu-bump. Bu-bump. A heartbeat. Sam's heartbeat! He was on Sam! Why?! He tried to rouse himself to get up but just couldn't. The chest beneath him was so nice and warm. And something above him was giving off heat as well.

The bat-cave was pretty cold now that he was tiny. The marble floors and stone walls didn't allow a small person warmth. It wouldn't hurt just to sleep for a while and then…and then… that big heartbeat was soooo soothing.

Moments later Dean was fast asleep. Dreaming happy, warm dreams.

Sam awoke hours later slowly blinking his eyes and with a long stretch of his big body, arms up and legs out, the whole nine yards. (almost.) He relaxed, before getting up he noticed something white on his chest. He blinked at it for a few moments before remembering with a start that it was his brother! Slowly he picked up his head, trying to keep his chest level as he looked at his tiny brother wrapped up in the hankie.

"Dean. You up yet?" Sam didn't know that Dean woken up half an hour before and was in a nice half-doze stupor with the heat all around him. When Sam removed his hand the cave of warmth disappeared. He slowly curled his legs into a loose fetal position. When Sam called to him, he felt it through the chest underneath though the voice was gentle. Something large bumped the side of his body, moving him a little. Even a small, gentle poke from Sam was still a pretty big poke to Dean.

"Rise and shine Thumbelina." Sam teased, scooping up a shifting Dean and sitting up. Dean struggled out of his blanket to finally look up at the face that was far bigger than he was.

"Mornin." He yawned. Reaching his arms upwards in a stretch.

"I'm gonna take a shower. Want to come with me to the bathroom or stay here?" Dean thought for a moment.

"I'll stay here, mister morning breath. Make good use of that toothpaste." He said waving a hand in front of his face. Sam had to stop himself from pressing his tiny brother against his cheek in a hug. His morning fuzzy brain told him that Dean was so damn cute, with his tiny messed up hair and stubble and Sam couldn't do anything about it. Dean would be pissed beyond all reason if the word "cute" ever left his mouth. Instead he bent his thumb and rubbed at the bed-head hair.

"Dude!" Dean pushed the finger. He couldn't actually move it but Sam moved it away.

"S'not like I have a comb." He sulked, rubbing his fingers through his short hair in an attempt to comb it. After three seconds of watching Sam moved his thumb back to mess it up. Dean fell on his back in surprise. Sam chuckled and moved his hand to the mattress. Dean stepped off and took a step back as Sam swung his legs away from his brother and off the bed. He stretched again, this time putting his back into it. Several satisfying pops and clicks brought a sleepy grin to his face. He looked down at the bed, barely seeing his brother on the expanse of the bed.

Dean looked up-up-up as his brother the giant practically touched the heavens. The shorter Winchester had the hankie over him like a cloak. His hand held two sides of the fabric at his chest. He saw Sam scan the bed before his eyes locked in on him. He picked up his phone from the night stand and propped it up on the pillow on its side.

"See if you can use it." Sam prompted. It was a touch phone, so Dean might have been able to use it. Surprising both of them, the screen lit up when he swiped his palm across it.

"Have fun." He called, already out the door.

One quick shower (and thorough teeth brushing and mouthwash later) had Sam back in the room with a towel around his waist. He walked in to get his clothes and go back into the bathroom to change. But stopped when he saw Dean try to flag him down from the bed.

Sam laid his hand on the bed and Dean all but sprinted on.

"Bathroom. Now. PLEASE." Sam nodded and stuck his clothes under his arm. When they got to the bathroom, Sam placed his hand on the counter of the sink. Dean scrambled off and fumbled with his zipper. Out of courtesy Sam left the room and dressed in the hallway. When he re-entered the bathroom he found his brother at the edge of the counter leaning over to look at the drain. Sam offered him his hand.

"You done?" Dean just looked at the hand and shifted. He mumbled something unintelligible.

"What?" Sam bent down and leaned in close to hear him. Once again Dean mumbled. Louder this time, but still unintelligible.

"Dude, I can't understand you when-"

"I gotta take a dump!" as soon as the words were said Dean's face grew red and he turned away from Sam.

"Oh." He looked at the drain, which had big holes and was slick and slippery. No, that wasn't happening. What was small enough for Dean to use?

An idea hit him, if it had been a cartoon, Sam was sure there would have been a light bulb over his head.

"Be back in a minute." He said as he walked out of the bathroom. The main room was close, and he remembered he had left a water bottle on the table. Removing the small plastic cap he brought it back to the bathroom. He placed the cap on the counter with a flourish. It reached Dean's knees in height and was almost as big as he was.

"voila! Instant porta-potty. Size extra-large for the extra-small." Dean just stared at it.

"Dean, we've gone in the woods and in bathrooms that looked like they haven't been cleaned since the seventies. This isn't so bad." Dean looked up.

"I know! Its- thanks." He stuttered.

"No problem." Sam tore a corner off a square of toilet paper and passed it to Dean, gently pressing it into his hands. It was almost the same size as he was.

"I'll come back in a few minutes." He said once again stepping outside to give his brother some privacy. The younger hunter walked back to his room and put on fresh socks and shoes. Getting Dean a heating pad would be a good idea. Sam thought to how easily Dean agreed to be carried around. The idea that he was cold when not around Sam made sense. Last night he had gone searching in the web to look up lifestyles of small mammals. They had faster heart rates to keep themselves warm, Humans were just not made to be tiny! They also had faster metabolisms, and were capable of amazing feats of strength and agility! Nature has a way of making sure the small things live. He pondered these thoughts for a few minutes while waiting outside of the bathroom.

He tapped on the door with a knuckle.

"Dean? You done?" only realizing after he asked that even if Dean responded, he wouldn't have been able to hear him from this distance. Oh so slowly he opened the door to find Dean on the counter, done with his business. The bottle cap was covered with shredded toilet paper. Sam pretended that he didn't notice the little face light up when he walked in. Dean walked on to his palm, and he moved him to the sink, this time offering him a fingernail of scraped, dry soap. Dean accepted it, washed his hands, and then his face. Wiping it off on the cuff of Sam's long sleeved tee when he was done. Sam opened his mouth to say something about it, but then thought better and walked out.

It was a complete accident if Dean got jostled and fell down in his hand as he turned a corner. Entering the kitchen, Sam moved his hand to his ear. Dean's bare feet ticked a little as he climbed on. The little hunter was once again draped over the outside of his ear. His torso on the outer shell, little feet resting in a nook his ear provided.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Sam asked, a little curious as to what his brother might say.

"How 'bout some scrambled eggs?" Dean suggested. Sam nodded gently.

"Sounds good. I'll join you." he pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge, and some butter. He put the butter on a heating pan and popped two pieces of bread into a toaster. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth when he heard Dean lightly humming. It wasn't a rock song to his surprise. He couldn't place the tune but still didn't comment on it. He could feel Dean tap out a beat with his feet, they were so light. Sam didn't think Dean was aware he was doing it. He brought a plate with hot scrambled eggs to the table and was surprised to encounter a slice of pie on the table.

"Guess I forgot to put it away last night." He apologized as he bought his hand to his ear. Dean was placed on the table and went not for the pie, but for his now-dry underwear and socks. Dean picked it up and gave Sam a very clear "look away" look. Sam turned his head and got up from the table. Getting a glass of orange juice from himself, and a cap full of juice for the little one.

He took longer than usual, drawing out the task, giving Dean time to change. He walked back and placed the cap in front of Dean, who got on his knees, stuck his face in, and slurped at the juice. Sam rolled his eyes at the sight. Dean was a slob, what else was new? He tore off a corner of toast and placed it at the end of the plate along with a bit of egg. Dean saw and eagerly dug in to his (relatively) small portion.

"Slow down, don't want to gain a few micro-grams, do we?" Sam teased. Dean shrugged off the comment and continued to enjoy breakfast. He stayed off the plate and occasionally watched the giant fork wearily if it came anywhere near him.

A few crumbs and a tiny bit of egg later, Dean was done with his meal. Sam was still working on his. He noticed Dean eying the leftover pie.

"You're not going for the pie?" he questioned.

"Time and place Sammy. Breakfast isn't the time for pie. Especially if said pie has been left out all night." Sam nodded, considering this.

Dean stood up and touched his toes a few times.

"Any plans for today?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm getting you a heating pad so you don't freeze again." Dean blinked up at his little brother.

"Again?" it was NOT cute the way Dean tilted his head. He had to be strong, and not give in to the cuteness. The adorableness that was his big-little brother. So tiny.

"You don't remember last night?" Sam questioned, a little surprised.

"I went to sleep on the night table and woke up on your chest. That's it!" it was a little lie. Dean remembered waking up on Sam's chest after he was moved, but that was only for a minute. He still didn't know WHY he was moved.

"Dude, I checked on you and you were freezing! You were shivering!" Sam accidentally raised his voice and Dean winced at the loud noise. He lowered it quickly.

"I put you on my chest you wouldn't catch hypothermia or die from lack of heat! Why didn't you tell me you were cold?" Dean shrugged, his head down, his cheeks and neck grew hot. It was downright HUMILATING to keep asking Sam for help! His hands clenched into fists at his side, then folded his arms tightly. Even to keep himself warm, he couldn't even do that! Dean hated the feeling of helplessness. He was done with being tiny.

"I don't remember." That much was true. He didn't remember freezing. Just waking up after Sam moved him on his chest. He slept ON TOP of Sam. Dean suppressed the snarky part of his brain that threatened to sass him. Sam saw the little face burning. He couldn't tell if it was shame or embarrassment, but an educated guess went for both.

"Little creatures have faster heart rates to keep themselves warm. You'd get a heart attack trying to keep yourself warm that way." Slowly he moves his hand across the table to his big-little brother. He nudged dean gently with a knuckle.

"I don't mind keeping you warm if it keeps you alive." He said plainly. Dean still refused to look up at the goliath's giant puppy eyes.

"And it doesn't make you weak to ask for help." Sam's large voice continued. But that's what he was. Tiny. Weak. Helpless. Unable to protect Sam or even himself himself against anything! Dean silently cured the Men Of Letters for not destroying that damned shrinking statue.

"You're still Dean. The man that makes monsters wet their beds and tell horror stories about. The guy who kills dick angels and asshat demons. My big brother and partner in crime." Sam shifted in his seat and leaned closer to the little person.

"It doesn't matter what you look like on the outside. What matters most is here, on the inside." Sam unfurled his pointer finger to tap at the little chest.

Unintentionally, Sam winded dean a little, but didn't notice. Sam withdrew his finger but Dean put out a hand and the large appendage paused its retreat. Dean looked up into the hazel eyes of sorrow and the little snarky part of his mind gained control of his mouth once more.

"Since when did I have a care-bear for a little brother?" he joked upward. Chuckling, Sam was happy to see that the little face no longer resembled a red hot.

"I got you something to pass the time." Sam pulled his finger back, placed his hand palm up on the table and twitched his fingers in a "come here" gesture.

"it won't be easy to turn the pages of a magazine at this size." Dean joked, making his way on to the offered hand. The heat radiating from the flesh beneath him felt nice, the table had been getting cold. Sam scowled slightly at the joke, bringing Dean up to his ear. Once Dean was settled he cleaned off the table.

"Whatcha get?" Dean asked, impatient and curious. He tapped his feet in a tattoo against the outer shell of the ear as Sam washed his plate.

"What starts with season six and ends in box set?" there was a dis-believing pause.

"Sammy, you didn't!"

"I did."

"Yeah!" dean yelled happily. Sam flinched at the sudden loud little voice right by his ear.

"Man, no yelling by the ear." He pleaded.

"sorry." Only because he was focused on that area, did he feel a little hand pat his head. Walking out of the kitchen, Sam could feel his little brother fidgeting in excitement.


End file.
